An adventurer came to our village late last night with news of a possible enemy. Both he and the village elders wish to speak with you.
Iria left her brother s tree home and climbed to the ground, then hurried to the village meeting hall, where all guests were kept. Once inside she saw both a village elder and a moon elf with elaborately braided red hair in full armor. His skin was nearly white with tinges of blue, and he carried a sword at his hip and a quiver and bow were strung across his back. He was talking intently with the village elder, and Iria waited until she caught the village elder s eye before moving forward.
Iridaria Stormblossom, the elder said by way of introduction, using her full name. His face showed too much relief for Iria to complain at the formality as she would have any other time. The other elf turned to look at her as well, though his expression showed more surprise than relief. Realizing that she was clad in little more than a tunic and leggings, Iria understood why immediately. His expression changed abruptly as he realized the marks on Iria s face and arms were scars, not decorative paint.
My apologies for my state of dress, Iria said, gesturing towards herself as she did so, I came as soon as I heard that there was trouble. She politely ignored the moon elf s expression, giving him time to recover. Moon elves are so fussy sometimes, she thought to herself, amused that it took so little to rattle even seasoned adventurers such as this one.
The moon elf recovered quickly, schooling his expression to one of neutrality. Trouble. From the west. I was traveling not four days from your village when my party came across a drow.
Drow? Iria repeated, feeling faint. She shifted positions slightly to hide the sudden weakness in her knees.
The moon elf nodded grimly. I fired an arrow at him and I believe I hit, but he took off at a speed that my group could not match. We attempted to track him but he took to the trees and we lost his path. Your elder has told me that you have much experience with drow and would be of help on this matter.
Iria considered the elf s tale for a moment. Why would a lone male drow travel so close to her home? She ruthlessly quashed thoughts of the dream she had been sent. Are you so certain that there was only one? she asked instead.
I am as certain as I can be, Lady Stormblossom. The moon elf assured her. We found no traces of other footprints and I cannot believe that if there was more than one of them that they would have allowed my group to pursue or to survive to bring word to nearby villages. Especially with one of our kind leading.
Iria nodded, knowing truth when she heard it. That this drow had not even tried to strike back meant that he was probably traveling alone. Drow preferred to operate in secrecy until it was too late to stop them. Given how close her village was, if that was their target they would have silenced the moon elf s group. There was only one drow, or that there were too many of them and that their goal was too massive to be disrupted by the appearance of a single elf. The memory of her dream came to her again, and Iria banished it ruthlessly. Older, and much more potent memories came to mind, and Iria banished these too.
She paused a moment more to regain her shattered nerves, a moment she masked with a look of contemplation. Which way did the drow come from? she asked, when at last she trusted her voice.
The moon elf pointed to the southwest.
Iria nodded, not nearly as surprised as she would have liked to be. The last time she had dealt with drow they had come from the southwest as well. As soon as I gather my supplies and become travel-ready I will begin my search for this drow. We will have our answers, one way or another.
The moon elf made a halfhearted offer to assist her, but Iria turned him down, not wanting to get another involved in the search. She absently thanked him for his news then left him to talk with the village elder. Iria half-ran, half-flew back to her brother s home. In as few words as she could manage, she informed him of what she had been told and of her plans as she donned her traveling gear and packed up the few things she had brought with her, as well as what she had been able to requisition on such short notice.
Iria, please be careful. Erris pleaded after they had said their goodbyes.
As always, I will be. She reassured him, though Erris did not look reassured. Impulsively, she embraced her younger brother, willing him to understand that she would do everything she could to ensure that she came back, unless her death would keep the village safe.
I will return as soon as I can. She promised as Erris reluctantly let her go.
With those words, Iria set off to hunt down the drow.
~
Night came and the drow miserably pondered where he should travel next. Though sunlight had prevented him from traveling, he had not slept. Fear over what he might remember while unconscious had banished any such thoughts from his mind.
Unfortunately, consciousness was not enough to keep his fears away. When he shut his eyes he remembered the sound of battles that he couldn t remember. He heard the babble of voices, and worst of all he heard the sound of children screaming. These voices stayed teasingly at the edge of his memory, refusing to be recalled properly as they hinted at darker things he had done.
He had wanted to scream out his denial of these dark fears, yet he could not do so. He had no way to affirm or deny for certain that he was what he feared, though from what snatches of memory he could call his own it seemed quite possible that the worst was true.
That thought had driven him out of the tree he had been resting in and to the ground. Blinded by the sunlight, he had closed his eyes stumbled through the forest as best he could. He picked up many cuts and scrapes from falls through the underbrush, but he did not care. The drow welcomed these minor pains, as well as the harsher one from the sun as a punishment for what he feared he had done.
Sunset had brought a respite from the brilliance of the sun and it had brought some calmness to the drow as well. He stopped at a stream to wash off the worst of the dirt and blood from his clothes and re-orient himself.
After some consideration, he decided to continue walking parallel to the village, not because it was the best way to go but because he needed to keep moving so that he would stop thinking. Overhead the moon was now full though clouds kept passing over it, making the terrain blindingly light one moment and dark the next.
His attention, however, was not on his surroundings but rather on what was going on inside his head. What have I done and why can I not remember it? The thought came to him that perhaps the faerie elf s hatred was not misplaced. Could it be that he was being hunted because of some horrible misdeed he had done? The longer he thought on it, the more likely it seemed.
But what was he to do? How could he remedy his wrongs? He pondered these questions as he walked out of the forest and into a moonlit field, then froze as he heard the sound of a blade being drawn. Tormented by his own thoughts, he had been completely oblivious to his surroundings. He stopped and turned slowly. In front of him was an armed faerie elf with long brown hair and copper skin. She seemed to be watching him, judging him with her gaze. Another hunter, he decided. He had run from the last one out of ignorance and cowardice, but he knew what he was now. He would not run again. This time he would await the elf s judgment for whatever it was that he had done.
The elf advanced, sword at the ready. On instinct, he took a step back, then paused and put his hands at his side, palms out to show that he carried no weapon.
For a moment the elf merely looked surprised. Then, her eyes widened, her expression changing to what looked like recognition. She slid her sword back into its scabbard and she crossed her hands over her chest. The sign was one that the drow recognized, a sign of peace that was common amongst his people. Astounded by his turn in luck, he bowed his head to her. Perhaps she knew who he was.
The elf said something to him in a tongue which he did not understand and he came to comprehend the folly in his way of thinking. He shook his head then raised it, biting his lip to keep from showing the disappointment he felt.
The faerie elf stood still for a moment, as if she was pondering what to do, then she smiled and began walking towards him. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he decided against it. If the elf wanted him dead, she would have killed him already. He took a reluctant step towards her. He managed only one before he felt something hit his chest and he crumpled to the ground.
Pain hit the drow a few heartbeats later with enough force to nearly make him faint. He would have gladly taken leave of his senses then, if not for the faerie elf s shout of protest. He opened his eyes and found himself on his back on the ground. In front of him was the elf woman, and facing her with a bow and arrow was the elf that he had run from before. The two elves began talking in sharp tones back and forth. He put a hand to his chest, around the shaft of an arrow, and pulled himself into a crouching position, gasping with pain as he did so, and both of the elves turned to look at him for a moment, then went back to shouting at each other again.
I know not where you came from drow, the male elf spat in the drow tongue, nor how you managed to convince one of my people that you were anything other than evil but I have not been fooled. I will kill her to get at you. The drow s eyes went wide at the proclamation, for he had no doubt that the elf spoke the truth.
Slowly, the drow rose to his feet and stepped out from behind the elven female. She made a noise of protest and moved as if to protest, but stilled when he met her gaze. Satisfied that she would not be a problem, the drow again turned his attention to the other elf. Again, he put his hands out to show that he held no weapon.
The elf was less than impressed. He knocked another arrow, and took aim. Keep moving forward and I will kill you, the elf assured him.
I believe you mean to kill me anyway, the drow replied. Nonetheless, he stopped.
The elf shrugged noncommittally. Probably. Are you going to try and stop me?
The drow shook his head. Kill me if you must, but not her. She has done nothing wrong.
The elf shook his head in disbelief. What kind of drow are you that you would act to prevent a faerie elf from shooting another of their kind? Who are you? How did you come here? Why do you carry no weapons?
The drow let his arms drop to his sides. In a voice that shook with pain and despair he spoke three words.
I know not.
His legs gave out and the drow fell into darkness.
